Seven Shades of You
by icameheretowinry
Summary: This is a seven-part fic I wrote for this year's Royai Week on Tumblr. It fills out moments and aspects of Roy and Riza's relationship spanning from their teen years to post-Promise Day. Each chapter was organized around a prompt, the following of which were "chess", "black tie", "catalyst", "promise", "letters", "light/darkness", and "incendiary." I hope you enjoy!
1. Berthold's Pawn

The soft rapping of knuckles on wood drew Riza slowly out of her sleep.

"Miss Hawkeye?"

The boyish voice sounded small and timid behind the door that lead to her bedroom. She sat up too quickly and winced as the pain spread like fiery wings between her shoulder blades. She pursed her lips to keep from crying out. It was never a sound her father enjoyed, and often made it quite clear. Slowly, she cleared her expression of discomfort and drew the thin blue sheets on her bed up to her chin.

"Come in," she replied almost too softly to hear.

She wrenched her face into a pained grin as the startlingly opposing silhouette of Roy Mustang emerged from the now open door. After taking several steps into the rather tiny room, he paused cautiously at the foot of her bed, his right hand raised and tangled in his unkempt raven-colored hair. After a period of strained silence, he finally managed to let some words tumble from his trembling lips.

"How are you, Miss Hawkeye?" he asked.

Riza's smile widened without effort, "Roy, I told you! Enough with the formalities. Please call me Riza!"

Roy stiffened, "Master Hawkeye requested it. You know how he favors formality."

Riza sighed and rolled onto her side, trying to stifle a pained gasp, "Yes, I do."

She noticed Roy had begun to turn back towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Oh! I don't want to bother you, Ms. Hawk – I mean, Riza," Roy replied, "I just came by to see how you were doing."

"Nonsense!" said Riza brightly as she gestured to a worn, wooden chair perched near her bedside, "Have a seat!"

Without hesitation, Roy slid into the chair and seemed to relax a little bit, finally detaching his fingers from the unruly mop on his head.

"How's your fever?" he asked, "Are you feeling any better?"

Riza felt the prickling pain of her new tattoo ebb and flow across her back, knowing the coolness of her own forehead.

"Oh!" she said and sunk deeper into her pillow, "It's fine. I'm actually feeling a little better…"

Her eyes widened when she noticed the genuine smile spread across Roy's face. It was practically goofy due to being a little lopsided on the left corner. She wondered if anyone ever made fun of him for it. Yet, she still sensed a lingering sense of unrest in the small room, like a shadow lurking just outside of vision's reach.

"Why are you here? Really," she demanded in the serious tone he often teased her for.

One of Roy's hands found its way back into his hair as he searched for an answer.

"Well… I…"

"Well what?" she asked.

"I just got word from Central," he said quickly, "I start training at the academy in three weeks."

Riza was surprised by the acidic despair that suddenly blossomed in her heart. For a second, she dared to let it overshadow the fiery demon affixed to her back. Roy lowered his head and refused to meet her piercing gaze.

"Well," she said quietly, "It was your decision."

Roy said nothing.

"I'm going to Central too," she said suddenly.

Roy's head shot up in surprise, "You're what?! You're going to Central too? When?"

Just as surprised by the declaration, Riza struggled to pull words from the tornado spinning inside her head.

"In a few months," she replied, "I have to get better and get my affairs in order."

Roy stared at her in disbelief. Riza gave his arm a playful slap.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" she chided, "I'm not a child!"

Roy shook his head and sighed.

"But why? Why are you going? You have a life here."

Her once soft brown eyes suddenly burned into his soul.

"I will no longer be his pawn."


	2. Red and Black

Riza pulled her coat tightly around her thin frame. The flimsy layer of red wool did little to protect her from the harsh winter night. The streets of Central, completely foreign to her, were nearly deserted as she attempted to follow a crudely drawn map of the city. She raced quickly between the hazy pools of light emitting from the streetlamps, each one barely holding back the inky darkness. A frustrated sigh hung, cloud-like, around her as the ink smudged from the dampness of the snow. She massaged the bridge of her nose with a gloved hand as she deposited the useless map in a nearby waste bin.

Suddenly, the silent air was filled with the unmistakable roar of a car engine, and the sleek, gray vehicle that followed its noisy introduction sent an avalanche of freshly fallen snow over Riza as it quickly rounded the corner. She managed to shield her unprotected face from the frigid assault, but winced as it melted and ran in icy rivers down her back. As Riza cursed the reckless driver under her breath and shook the layer of snow out of her cropped blond hair, she noticed the car screech to a halt in front of Central's famously ornate theatre. Without hesitation, she trudged through the accumulating snow bank with every intention to give the driver a piece of her mind.

'What a jerk!' she thought bitterly to keep herself distracted from the chill that settled deep in her bones, 'I've only been her a week, and I already hate it! Shame on me for thinking I could handle the big city. It's cold. It's dirty. Not to mention the rude people –'

Her frustrated train of thought was cut short as she saw the driver exit the car. That raven-colored hair. Those broad shoulders. Those jet-black, hopeful eyes. It couldn't be him. Not in that painstakingly pressed suit. Not with that smart black tie expertly knotted at the base of his neck. Not here – a tall, thin brunette in a pale fur coat and patent leather kitten heals slowly emerge from the passenger side of the vehicle – not with her… Yet, it was Roy Mustang all the same.

Riza gasped and ducked into a nearby alley. Her crimson-colored jacket did little to help her blend in. She fumbled through her worn leather purse until she found the heavily-creased scrap of paper with his address in Central scribbled in that boyish, spidery handwriting. She wondered if he even remembered her...

As her thoughts played tug of war in her head, Riza barely noticed Roy prematurely slip outside the theater – alone. Suddenly, she found herself standing by his side, still clutching the only artifact of the life they knew before everything changed.

"Hello, Roy," she said quietly.

Roy jumped, and turned towards her, "Riza?! Is that you? What are you doing here?"

She let a hazy, nervous laugh escape her lips, "I often find myself asking the same thing."

A few minutes slipped by in suspended silence. Riza sighed when she realized the car didn't belong to him.

"What happened to your… umm… date?

"Someone with a lot more money to spend scooped her up at the champagne bar," he said quietly.

Riza wondered if his cheeks were tinged pink from the cold or embarrassment.

"Don't worry about me," he added with a soft smile, the one Riza recognized.

"Would you like to stop by my flat for some tea?" she asked, "It's awfully cold and –"

"I would like that a lot. Thank you, Riza."

His smile lingered.

As they disappeared into the snowy evening, Roy looked her up and down, his eyes catching on her frighteningly red attire.

"Nice coat," he said with a laugh.

Riza gave his arm a friendly shove. It was so like him to pick up right where they left off.

"Nice tie."


	3. A Little Universe

Over steaming mugs of hot tea, Riza and Roy slowly melted away the chill of the snowy Central night. Roy still took his like a child, with cream and an embarrassing amount of sugar cubes. Riza took hers plain. They talked about the old times; a past that settled upon them like dappled sunshine. Riza nearly spat tea across the table when Roy reminded her of the time her father set fire to Roy's coattails. She was also quick to remind him when they snuck off to attend a spring festival in a nearby town. Yet, the shadows of that fickle light could never seem to leave them alone.

Riza sighed and wrapped her hands tightly around her fresh cup of tea. The frigid ache in her core was yet to leave her. She would never admit that it settled there long ago. Roy cautiously met her gaze. She recognized it as the same boyish concern that came to her bedside only a few months before.

"I have a feeling that the evening you originally had planned wasn't a typical one," she said.

Roy hung his head. She certainly inherited her father's intuition, if anything good was to come from him.

"No…"

"You're going to the front, aren't you?"

Roy couldn't avoid the sharpness of her gaze. It bore into him, wrenching the words he couldn't bear to say from his heart.

"To—tomorrow…" he whispered.

Riza said nothing and took a sip of her tea. Roy hung his head as a curious sort of despair seized his around his heart and squeezed the air from his lungs.

"I may never see you again."

They seemed to tumble of their own accord out of his mouth.

'Stupid! You fool!' he thought.

Suddenly, he saw those violent eyes begin to sparkle with… Tears? Riza Hawkeye, crying? Roy's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He sat there, his hands on fire from the cup of tea still clutched in his hands, and watched the strongest soul he knew crumble before his eyes.

"R-Riza?"

She answered by turning away from him. Her tears sparkling in the harsh fluorescent lighting above her.

"Is – Is this about me?" he asked.

"It's – It's about EVERYTHING," she sobbed.

Suddenly, Roy couldn't stand it anymore. The formalities, the absence, the coldness of that house. What did she do? Roy always wanted to know his father, but this… This was worse. Knowing a man who loved his research more than anything in the world. If only he could learn the secret of those flames…

"You don't deserve this!" he said, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the wooden table between them.

Riza didn't seem to hear him.

"Riza!"

She said nothing.

"RIZA!"

She turned towards him, and without warning, his lips crashed into hers. Roy swore he saw the birth of a universe. Galaxies bloomed in Riza's eyes and stars danced upon her tongue.

"What was that for?" Riza asked when they finally broke apart.

"It's a promise," replied Roy.

"A promise for what?"

"That this is a catalyst. Not an ending."


	4. Roy's Promise

Still reeling from Roy's kiss, Riza quickly rose from the table and stumbled toward the flat's small kitchen. She wrapped a shaking hand around her crimson-colored kettle only to realize she left her teacup behind. By the time she turned around, Roy's cheeks perfectly mimicked its hue.

"That was a little much, huh?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Riza smiled and shook her head, "Not at all!"

She could feel the fire starting to creep across her own cheeks. Roy smirked. He noticed.

"It… It was nice! It just… umm… caught me by surprise is all," she explained as she rejoined him at the table.

Yet, as reality began to seep back into her skin, Riza realized his promise was as impossible as it was sudden. The young man seated across from her – this newly-minted soldier – was about to offer his dream for their country to a cause that always irked her. She watched that same institution eat away at her own father in his final years until death quieted his manic search. That day in the graveyard, Roy showed her a future she could believe in, as fantastic as it seemed. She even shared her burden with him because if anyone could control the beast that consumed her father, it was him.

She could feel his gentle gaze searching hers for an answer. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to guard that promise close to her heart and wear it proudly – a golden star on a gossamer chain. Yet, she heard the rumors of what happened at the front – everyone had. Ishval was inked across every newspaper and hung in the air of every neighborhood tavern, turning it bitter. All she could imagine was that star falling across the desert sky, only to be extinguished by the sand. To Riza, love was a very different beast than fire.

"But… you leave tomorrow…" she nearly whispered.

Roy leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"I should've told you!" he responded brightly, "I'm not going straight to the front. It's technically classified, but I'm being transferred to Fort Briggs for further training and team building."

"Fort Briggs?" gasped Riza, yet inside, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Roy's gaze drifted to the snowy Central night lurking just outside the window of Riza's flat.

"Yes!" he replied, "I need to start building a team to support me after I'm promoted. Using my time there with other State Alchemists to toughen up won't hurt either."

"You already received your certification?"

Roy directed his attention back to Riza, his expression the same ever so idealistic one she witnessed in the cemetery only months before.

"King Bradley himself attended," he beamed, "I'm the youngest to ever be certified!"

Riza couldn't help but giggle at his child-like excitement. Roy's grin quickly twisted into a boyish pout.

"Don't laugh!"

Riza shook her head, "I'm only joking! There's no need to doubt how proud I am."

Roy casually whipped his silver pocket watch out of his pants pocket to check the time.

"Still," he said, "There is more research and practice to be done."

He suddenly rose from the table and grabbed his coat as he headed down a narrow hallway to the flat's front door.

"Roy?"

Riza rushed after him. With one hand on the doorknob, Roy reached into his coat pocket with the other to withdraw a small piece of folded paper before pressing it into Riza's hand.

"I always thought it was a little strange that even after years apart as we run in wildly different directions, we still manage to find each other again."

Riza said nothing as her cheeks went crimson.

"I know I say big things sometimes, but a promise is a promise."

Roy leaned in a gave Riza a gentle peck on the lips.

"Write me, will you?" he asked as he opened the door.

Riza nodded and gave him gentle smile. As her walked down the dimly lit hallway of Riza's building, Roy shoved his hands deep in his coat pockets and shook his head.

'How lucky am I?' he thought, 'To know a girl with the universe in her eyes, and life blossoming in her smile.'


	5. Dea Riza

It was almost cruel how effortlessly the years allowed themselves to slip by. At the edges of his memory, he could still remember the chill of a winter in Central that settled deep in his bones. Now, he could never seem to staunch the rivers of fine, golden dust that seeped their way into his boots.

'The day I never see another grain of sand can't arrive too soon,' he thought bitterly.

The wind picked up and lashed more of Ishval towards his unprotected face, as if the desert could hear his thoughts. Roy groaned and dug his knuckles into his eyes.

"DAMN THIS SAND!" he shouted.

"Get ahold of yourself, Mustang," came a voice to his left.

Roy looked up to see his friend and comrade, Maes Hughes, fall into step beside him, practically swooning over a small white envelope clutched in his hands.

"What do you have there?" asked Roy.

Maes stopped and pressed the letter to his chest.

"Another letter from my darling Gracia, of course!" he cried passionately.

Roy rolled his eyes as his friend drew the letter dramatically beneath his nose.

"It even smells like her! What an angel!" he cooed.

"Would you cut it out?" snapped Roy, "You're being absolutely ridiculous!"

Maes' expression stiffened, "What's gotten into you?"

Roy shrugged, "You! Gushing over every letter she sends you, as though they don't come every week!"

Maes folded his arms and frowned, "Well, maybe you wouldn't be so bitter if you received a letter once in a while. Why don't you write someone?"

Roy scowled and turned to walk towards his tent.

"Well?" he asked.

Roy stopped and turned towards his friend, "I don't have anyone I can to write to."

Yet, as the poisonous words fell out of his mouth, he wished with every fiber of his being that it was a lie. His thoughts flew back to his last in Central, and to Riza – in her comically red coat and stars caught in her eyes. Roy remembered the creased scrap of paper he pressed into her hands, and a timid kiss tied up in a promise. He remembered how that icy winter finally released its grip upon his heart. She was little more than a memory caught it a paper prison…

"Roy?"

He met his friend's gaze and noted the concern etched on his face. The beloved letter from Gracia remained unopened, growing damp in his hand.

Roy remembered the shock of learning that no unofficial communiqués were to be sent or received from Fort Brigg after his arrival. He recalled how quickly that unshakable chill returned. He remembered how many ghostly words he turned to ash.

"It doesn't matter now," Roy replied, "It's been too long. I don't know where she is, or if she even remembers me."

"Who is it, Roy?" asked Maes, "Maybe we can do something!"

'She would never want to be associated with a monster like me,' he thought.

That sickly sweet smell that accompanied his flames refused to leave him. It clung to his clothes and skin, and whispered during bouts of fitful sleep. It would not let him forget.

"Roy?"

Neither of them seemed to notice a petite, hooded figure approaching them. Roy stared without seeing, and Maes' questions fell on deaf ears. Then, it pulled back its hood.

"Hello, Mustang."

Roy turned, his expression blank.

'No.'

"Do you remember me?"

'Riza… Dear Riza…'

His newest letter began.


	6. The Point of Darkness

"Colonel?"

Roy didn't bother to turn around. He knew she lingered, despite orders, in her usual spot: several feet behind him, and just to the left. Roy shook his head. Her dedication never failed to amaze him, especially when he left her letter-less after that snowy winter night so many years ago. The fiery sky above them was streaked with pink, and the earth around the grave at their feet was covered in a fine layer of young grass.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"You're here today, sir?" she asked.

Roy was silent as he let his gaze wander over the upright lettering of his fallen comrade's name, "MAES HUGHES," carved into the cold, gray stone.

"Yes, Lieutenant," Roy replied, his voice nearly too even, "It would seem to be that way."

They stood in silence as the sky, choked with the coming darkness, began to turn blue. Finally, Riza stepped forward and placed a timid hand on her commanding officer's shoulder. Roy stiffened at the sudden display of intimacy, but did nothing to dissuade her comfort.

"It's no use," Roy said suddenly as he turned to face his subordinate, yet never quite meeting her gaze.

Riza dared to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Roy returned the gesture with a pained grin.

"There's still no evidence. Stories don't line up. Ross' innocence, of which there was never a question to me, doesn't even make sense. If anything, it raises more questions of the military's involvement in his murder, and made me more than a few enemies for 'killing' her today."

"This is a frustrating situation, sir," Riza replied, struggling to maintain any sense of the formality that plagued them since Ishval.

When Roy finally met her gaze, Riza gasped. She'd seen every shade of those eyes; those of an idealistic teenager, a determined apprentice, a young solider in love, and even a killer. Yet, the eyes that met her own were as cold and carved with despair as the headstone at their feet.

"Colonel? Are… are you alright?"

Roy answered with a strangled laugh. Riza quickly pulled away as he turned and raised his arms to the darkening sky.

"What's the answer?!" he cried into the night.

"ROY, STOP IT!"

Stunned by her sudden shift in behavior, Roy turned to see a shade of Riza he'd never witnessed; her face distorted with rage and despair, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. His expression instantly softened as he placed his gloved hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to lose control. I will think of something. There has to be another path I haven't explored."

Riza took a few breaths and nodded.

"I agree," she replied, "Just let me know if I can help."

With every last shred of formality thrown out the window, Roy wrapped his arms around Riza and pulled her into a rare embrace. She sighed and allowed herself to fall into him.

"I will."

Yet, as Roy held his only source of light in the sea of graves around them, the alchemist could feel the darkness closing in.


	7. Burning Bright

"Would you have done it?"

Riza shifted in her bed, the sterile hospital sheets rough against her skin. She winced as pain shot through the wound on her neck. Roy, propped up on several pillows, stared straight ahead with grayish eyes, still encased in a world of darkness.

"Do what?" she asked.

Roy smirked at nothing in particular, "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

Riza sighed fixed her eyes on the bleak gray sky outside their window.

"Shoot you?"

Roy nodded.

"I made you a promise a long time ago," she replied.

"You didn't answer the question."

"I shouldn't have to, sir," Riza replied harshly.

Although Roy couldn't see her expression, he felt the Hawk Eye's familiar fiery stare searing into him. His brow furrowed.

"Colonel?"

Roy said nothing as he remembered their nightmare.

 _"Don't go where I cannot follow."_

 _Roy froze, yet every cell in his body was burning. He was a soul gone supernova, and Envy was a rogue planet sitting directly in his path of destruction. This was the thing that took the life of an innocent man, a father… a friend. The darkness clenched around his heart and the fire boiled in his veins._

 _He remembered her gasp when she found him asleep in the military library, a book on the theory of human transmutation resting on his chest, and how she always managed to linger (just behind him and to the left, of course) when he visited Maes._

 _'She promised to follow me into hell,' he thought._

 _Roy heard the familiar click of her silvery handgun behind him. The metal components rattling in what were usually steady hands._

 _'But this…'_

 _Her ragged breathing filled the empty corridor._

 _'This isn't hell…'_

 _"Colonel."_

 _'This is an ending.'_

"Colonel?"

Roy tried his best to look in the direction of her voice.

"Thank you for keeping your promise," he said.

Riza swallowed thickly and sunk into her pillow.

"Well, if I am to believe anything you've said," she replied, "Even if I did, we would find each other again someday."

A small laugh escaped Roy's lips, "Are you serious? Do you really believe that?"

Riza shook her head. Roy could picture that smile, caught somewhere between a smirk and a grin.

"I've seen a lot of things I'm not sure I believe in today," she said simply, "You more so than I."

Roy said nothing, flashes of the world beyond the gate filled his sightless vision. Suddenly, he felt Riza's warmth next to his.

"Riza?"

"Yes, Roy?" Riza whispered.

Yet, no questions filled that sterile air. Instead, he let her fill his universe. She was the determined girl buried beneath a sea of blue sheets, and, in a crimson coat on a snowy night. She was the young woman with galaxies in her eyes and life in her smile. She was once caught in a paper prison. She was the star during his darkest night.

She whispered his name…

"If you had to start over…"

"Hm?" Riza murmured, nearly asleep against his shoulder.

"… would you do it all again?"

Riza closed her eyes and let a groggy smile slink across her lips.

"If it would all lead to this moment, here and now… Yes," she replied.

"Me too," said Roy, swearing on every shade of Riza Hawkeye, "Me too."


End file.
